Opposing forces
by silver blood
Summary: “You underestimate me. I won’t give up until I’ve had you. And as I’ve said before: I will have you, Rory. Because you want me too.” Darkish Trory. Revised, will be updated shortly.
1. Satan, at your Service

**Title: **Opposing Forces

**Author: **Silver Blood

**Summary: **"You underestimate me. I won't give up until I've had you. And as I've said before: I will have you, Rory. Because you want me too." Darkish Trory.

**A/N:** So basically, I spent about a week working on revising the chapters of this that I had so far, and then my computer decided to crash. Twice. Which is why I hate Vista. So this is actually the third time I'm revising this…

**Chapter One: Satan, at Your Service**

There was something about the way he moved that always alerted her to his presence. She could never describe it, or the way it pulled at something inside of her.

Seeing his confidence and grace of movement comforted her, at the same time sending a nervous thrill to her stomach.

She was convinced that Tristan DuGrey was sex personified.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was walking on the opposite side of the hall, waiting for Rory to signal whether he should approach or not.

It was a game they played. As she met his eyes, she looked down. If she looked back up, she knew he'd smirk at her. If she kept her eyes averted, he would approach her. It seemed to be some form of punishment for her shyness.

He'd done it before; many times since he'd dubbed her 'Mary,' or more appropriately 'His Mary.' That simple act had changed things immensely.

Rory knew life at Chilton could have been worse for her. High-school kids could be cruel, especially to a scholarship student. But as she'd immediately caught the attention of Chilton's own Golden Boy, she'd somehow earned an odd sort of acceptance. They left her alone only because Tristan refused to.

This time, Rory met his gaze only seconds after she'd broken away, her eyes dark and stone-cold. He could see that she was angry, but not with him.

Although tempted to approach her, he didn't. He wouldn't break their unspoken rule, as she knew. So he smirked, a bitter twisting of his lips, and walked on.

* * *

He hadn't spoken to her all day, and she knew why. She was practically radiating anger. Her fury was palpable even to Paris, who refrained from torturing her for once.

But her luck was never kind. Or maybe it just had a warped sense of humor.

Before she'd even reached her locker after last bell, Tristan was waiting for her, blocking her from it.

"Mary."

"Satan."

He grinned in response to her greeting and tipped an imaginary hat.

"At your service."

Leaning against her locker, he cocked his head to the side and feigned nonchalance.

"So, I was thinking-"

"No."

He was still smiling.

"One day, Mary, you'll say yes."

She glared.

"I'm not in the mood, Tristan."

He chuckled at her expense.

"Well the second you are, you just let me know and I'll do what I can."

Rory rolled her eyes and attempted to push past him, only to be wedged between her locker and the hard, male body belonging to the one person she wanted more than anything to hate.

He leaned to whisper in her ear, and she fought chills.

"I want you, and before this is over, I'll have you. And you'll be begging for more."

He blew gently on the back of her neck, but as soon as he felt her melt, he backed off.

The frustration that had been bubbling up in Rory all day was reaching its boiling point. Turning quickly, she gave him her best withering stare.

"Get lost, Tristan."

He laughed, mocking her attempt at rudeness.

"Wow, kitten's really got her claws out now."

He watched her eyes flash as she fought the emotions threatening to explode out of her. Her eyes did something to him. Every time he glimpsed them full of emotion, he could no longer be held accountable for his actions.

Checking that the hall was deserted, he made his move.

Before she knew what was happening, his hands were on her hips, pulling her closer.

"Purr for me, kitty."

As his lips found her neck, Rory was compelled to acquiesce. But something in her nature was pushing at him, pushing him away.

Though he sensed what was about to happen, Tristan had no time to move before Rory's knee came up sharply between his legs.

He dropped to his knees.

"Jesus Christ!"

Rory found that some of her tension had escaped.

"I thought I was Mary, Tristan? Make up your mind."

She was almost laughing now, her mood considerably brighter. The look on his face was priceless, though somewhere deep down she did feel guilty for having injured him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Rory scoffed, finally opening her locker while continuing to eye Tristan and shoving her books into her bag.

"Just because I don't want your hands on me doesn't mean something is wrong with me."

The sound of her locker slamming shut echoed down the empty hallway. She started toward the entrance, but his voice stopped her. It was more the tone than the actual words that sent a chill down her spine.

"You underestimate me. I won't give up until I've had you. And as I've said before: I will have you, Rory. Because you want me too."

Without denying his bold statement, Rory walked out of the building.


	2. Meet me at the Backdoor

**Title: **Opposing Forces

**Author: **Silver Blood

**Summary: **"You underestimate me. I won't give up until I've had you. And as I've said before: I will have you, Rory. Because you want me too." Darkish Trory.

**A/N:**I can't believe the response this story has gotten... I'm just thrilled. It always amazes me when people consider my stories worth reading, and the compliments you guys gave were unbelievable. Thanks so much, you have no idea how much your opinions mean to me... So keep letting me know what you think!

**Chapter Two: Meet me at the Backdoor **

"I'm outside. Come let me in."

Rory's eyes fluttered, adjusting to the small amount of light filtering through her curtains.

"What are you talking about?"

Her mind still fuzzy, she looked at the numbers on the momentarily hated object known as her cell phone, trying to figure out which ones represented the time. Its annoying ringing had woken her up.

"Look out your window, Mary."

Climbing unsteadily out of bed, Rory squinted and pulled aside her curtain. In the driveway sat a black Mustang. Realization settled over the brunette and she nearly panicked.

"What are you doing here? How did you even know where 'here' is?"

She watched as the car door opened and Tristan stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Let me in, Mar."

She watched him through the blinds, contemplating the option of hanging up and going back to sleep.

"Go home, _Tris_."

"I don't think I will. I drove a long way to see you, you know. You're being kind of rude."

"Are you brain damaged or something?"

"Quite possibly. You know, I _could_ ring the doorbell and see if your mom doesn't mind letting me in."

Rory closed her eyes and sighed.

"Go around to the back. But you're not coming in."

He was waiting for her just outside the door. Her eyes narrowed as she closed the door quietly behind herself.

"How did you get my cell phone number?"

Tristan shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

"C'mon Mary, invite me in. It's the polite thing to do."

"_You_ are going to lecture _me_ on manners? Seriously Tristan, go home. I don't feel like dealing with you tonight."

She couldn't help but notice the concern that crossed his face momentarily.

"Why? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, looking at her toes.

"I'm fine. Drop it."

For a moment she thought he'd press her, but when he didn't she sighed with relief.

Rory crossed her arms over her chest, effectively pushing her breasts up and together, expanding their rise above the neckline of her thin tank top. Tristan didn't bother to hide his stare, licking his lips slowly.

"Nice pajamas."

He advanced towards her.

Glancing down, she felt her cheeks flush and brought her hands to her shoulders, her crossed arms now blocking his view.

"Is there some reason you're here?"

He didn't answer but took a step towards her. Her eyes were bright but still a little weary. For some reason, she was nervous, and his gaze just made her more so.

"If you don't have anything to say, I'm going back to bed."

Tristan shrugged, but as she turned to leave, he took her arm and pulled her against his chest.

"I just wanted to see you. Maybe discuss what we were talking about earlier."

She sent him a disgusted look and pushed away, but his arms didn't release her.

"Tristan, let go!"

A chuckle rose from deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her. Even after he stopped, she tried to escape, which wasn't to her benefit.

"Stop squirming, babe. You're just making me harder."

Rory froze instantly, regretting her earlier movements when he pressed forward, as if to verify. Panic started again in her stomach, flowing now through her veins, mixing with arousal.

Each of his hands found a place on her back, one holding her against him and one running up and down her spine.

"I know what you're thinking. Don't try it again. I'm stronger."

She hadn't actually been thinking about kneeing him, but he didn't have to know that. His grip was tight enough that she couldn't have found enough leverage anyway.

When his lips found her neck once again, she shook. A shudder went all the way through her toes, causing Tristan to grin and nip at her collar bone. She whimpered, he wasn't sure whether in pain or pleasure. Neither was she.

"Tristan, please, stop."

But she'd stopped resisting. He pulled back until his lips were barely touching her skin.

"Why'd you open your door, Rory? You knew what would happen. I haven't exactly been hiding what I want from you."

His eyelashes fluttered against her jaw.

She felt herself sink towards him, melting against his chest, but he didn't stop.

"You know I want you. You feel it too. Stop fighting it, baby. It could be good for us both."

His words were smooth, seductive enough to have her considering his proposition.

Rory had seen so many girls swoon over how 'charming' Tristan was. She'd heard plenty of locker-room talk about his talents in the bedroom, enough to make her want it just as much as he claimed.

But if they went inside, she knew what would happen, where it would lead. And she wasn't ready for that, especially not with Tristan. She would only end up hurt, and probably the subject of gossip for the next six months.

"I hate you. I don't feel anything else."

A moment later, Rory was free. His arms had come from around her back to his own sides, and he'd backed up a few steps.

His eyes were blank.

"You're a fucking tease, _Mary_. The only person you hate is yourself, because no matter what I do, you know you'll still want me to touch you."

He backed away, leaving Rory openmouthed and staring. When she was unable to respond, he chucked and turned around, heading for his car.

"See ya tomorrow, babe."


End file.
